


where the love light gleams

by joyyjpg



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Christmas, Christmas Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-05 22:41:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1099432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joyyjpg/pseuds/joyyjpg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Cas is there, crystal clear in the fog in Dean’s mind, and there has never been a worse time for this to finally happen, so of course it does.</i> angsty christmas stuff, pointedly ignores the events of 'holy terror' because i can</p>
            </blockquote>





	where the love light gleams

It’s Sam’s idea to invite Cas, though Dean has already thought of it and agonized over it and dialed Cas’ number three times before thinking better of it. When he finally does call, he can barely hear himself speak over his brain screaming at him that this is a bad idea, it’s too risky, what if he says no, what if Zeke takes off and leaves Sam broken, _what if Cas says no._ He’d have every reason to not want to come – Dean kicked him out into the cold and now he’s inviting him to Christmas dinner like everything is peachy. And hell, Cas has his own life now; maybe he already has plans to spend Christmas with Nora and Tanya. He deserves that – something normal, something _good._ Nora seems like a nice woman. Dean is not a nice man. What the hell makes him think he deserves to have Cas in his home, in his life, on Christmas or any other day of the year?

Cas says yes.

On Christmas Eve, Dean barely leaves the kitchen. He cooks way more food than the four of them can eat, but it keeps his hands and his mind busy. Sam and Kevin flit in and out during the day, sneaking bites when they think Dean isn’t looking. Cas shows up late, in the same red hoodie he left in, his meager belongings in a plastic sack in one hand and a bright red gift bag in the other. Sam hugs him; Dean claps him on the shoulder and says _glad you could make it_ and pretends that his arms don’t ache to wrap around him too.

Dean spends Christmas day on guard, waiting for something terrible to happen. Waiting for Zeke to pop in, waiting for Sam catch on to why Cas really left, waiting for any of them to catch Dean in his lies. He can’t escape them even for the day and he keeps the eggnog minimal, just in case it might loosen his tongue. Everything goes surprisingly fine and the tension even dissipates a little after dinner, the four of them stuffed and lazy and gathering around the humble tree in the corner.

Their gifts are mostly simple, but Cas runs his hands across the black coat Dean bought him like it’s something sacred. It occurs to Dean later that it’s probably the first gift anyone’s ever given him.

They don’t have a television to watch any Christmas movies, so they end up with Bing Crosby on the record player. They all sit together and drink until the record ends. Kevin and Sam turn in, leaving Dean alone with Cas. He starts the music again and, figuring it's safer to do so now, pours himself another eggnog. And then another. He lets his guard down just a little and it ends up being too much.

He pours Cas a couple more drinks, too. He’s not sure what they talk about, or if they talk at all. Some things are clearer than others. He’s vaguely aware of attempting to clean the kitchen and then going into the study to look for more booze. Cas comes with him, he knows that much, and they end up pressed together against the bookshelf. Dean can’t say for sure who made the first move, but somehow he knows he did. The alcohol is making him brave – or stupid. Definitely stupid. But Cas is there, crystal clear in the fog in Dean’s mind, and there has never been a worse time for this to finally happen, so of course it _does._

Cas’ mouth is hot against his and they tug and claw at each other, trying to get as close as they can and then even closer, trying to wrap around and crawl inside the other at the same time. Dean remembers every touch, every flick of Cas’ tongue, every scrape of the desks’ legs against the floor. There wasn’t even an attempt to make it upstairs and Dean thinks it’s better this way, better that he won’t later have to sleep alone with the memory of Cas in his bed. Cas drapes himself over Dean, breathes wetly against the back of his neck and links their fingers together where Dean is holding on to the edge of the desk. Dean’s other hand grabs behind him for any part of Cas he can reach: his hip, his hair, his arm. They’re both so fucking far gone and the alcohol has little to do with it. Dean’s voice cracks around Cas’ name when he comes and they stay together for a long time after, not wanting to leave the other’s warmth or shake off the post-coital bliss to face reality again.

Eventually, they straighten their clothes and go up to their separate rooms. Dean’s bed feels too big, too empty, and more than once he has half a mind get up, cross the hallway, and crawl into bed with Cas like the pathetic son of a bitch he is. He wonders if Cas would even let him stay or if he’d kick him out, give him a taste of his own medicine. Either way, Cas will be gone in a few hours, so Dean might as well let go now.

The next morning everyone nurses their hangovers over coffee. Cas is quiet, cold and closed off. The tension is suffocating. Sam and Kevin know – how can they not? After breakfast, Cas announces it’s time for him to leave. Sam hugs him again and tells him to keep in touch, and even Kevin manages a handshake and a tired smile.

Dean walks Cas to the door and this is all painfully familiar. He gives him leftovers and a travel mug of coffee instead of cash and a cell phone. There are a million words on Dean’s tongue: take care of yourself, call more often, _stay._ Cas nods as if he hears them all.

It’s cold as balls out and Dean does offer to drive Cas to the bus station. Cas declines and Dean is partly relieved, partly disappointed. 

Cas is halfway down the driveway before Dean spots the coat, still folded in the open box from yesterday, and takes off after him. It’s a nice coat, black wool with huge pockets, thick and warm; Dean tried it on at the store to make sure it would fit. When he catches up with Cas, Dean holds the coat out to him – another familiar scene – and Cas takes it gently, pulling it on one arm at at time. It looks good on him and, for the first time since he arrived, he smiles.

Dean heads back to the bunker, leaves crunching beneath his boots in time with Cas’ fading footsteps. He feels each one like a punch to the gut.


End file.
